Cold heart, cold hands
by terfle
Summary: Death comes to Elisabeth one night. Based on the European Elisabeth & the Japanese Death, so slight femslash. Death wants Sissi but does Sissi want Death?


She looked out of the window, a forlorn creature in a long white nightgown, dark hair cascading down her back. The wind blew fiercely through the courtyard and battered on the roof of the palace, the rain lashed against the window pane in a torrent of tears. Elisabeth sighed and pulled her shawl closer. Why couldn't it have been a clear night where the stars were out and she could dream the night away? She had been feeling lonely recently, but why it was, she couldn't say. There was something else that was bothering her, a feeling she couldn't quite pinpoint. She was growing restless and worrisome.

A soft footfall alerted her to the presence of someone else in her room. Someone was standing in the shadows, waiting for her to acknowledge them. Or just watching her? A prickle of fear wound itself around her throat and trickled down her spine. She turned her head fearfully and saw a hand illuminated in the moonlight, resting on the bedstead. A pale hand, with long slender fingers, very much like her own. She glanced at her own hand, noted how so very similar they were. The panic was ebbing away slowly now, she felt a bit calmer. She knew who the hand belonged to now. Roaming the palace like she often did, looking out of the window wishing for something that might not be. They were not unalike.

Death had turned up tonight, on soft swift feet to keep her company.

'Wishing on a star, Sissi?' The melancholy voice asked her. Death was intensely interested in her royal highness Elisabeth, emotionally invested somewhat. There was never anyone she had been willing to spirit away like that.

Sissi turned towards her reluctant guardian, a sad smile on her lips. She saw what she always saw when Death came by; a tall pale figure in a black jacket and silk trousers, the collar worn like a man. But contrary to belief, Death was no man. Her shock of silver hair tumbling around her shoulders, her only sign of femininity was worn effortlessly; the only flamboyance on her otherwise austere figure.

She moved a little closer, Sissi matched her wide blue eyes to the opposite cool grey ones. Death had a curious face, slanted eyes, a long nose, high cheekbones. Not a face you could forget easily. They stood at arms width apart, not daring to come any closer.

Sissi broke the silence eventually. 'My life is like a prison here, I never realised it could be so tough being royalty.' Death allowed not a flicker of thought to pass across her face. She had often thought that Sissi wasn't the most suited to the Kaiser but they had insisted, together that they would make it and had stuck to it. The cracks were starting to show, a few years on, Death had a hope she would give him up and return to her. She nearly had her once and she was foolish to let her go.

_The flutter of her breath as she rested her head on the pure white pillow, the lock of hair so dark against her fingers, eyelashes so long against her flushed cheek. Death touched her as lightly as possible, as though not to wake her up. She couldn't be woken up; Death was here for a reason. To make sure she didn't wake up in this world._

_But then she opened her eyes, those big blue eyes, imploring her to...what? What did she want? Once she received the kiss Death had to give her, she wouldn't be coming back. Was that truly what she wanted?_

Death rested her foot casually on the skirting board. They were standing side by side now, watching the never ending rain soak through the walls. The air was damp and the room was cold. Death laid a light hand on the fingers of the woman next to her. They were warm. Sissi shivered.

'Your hands are cold' she whispered. She moved her hand out of the way. Death longed for the time Sissi would let her keep her hand on hers. Death was always cold. Cold heart, cold hands.

There was only one person who could make her feel warm and Sissi never would acknowledge it.

_She begged her not to leave, that she felt free in her arms, that she wanted her back. Now that Death had done what she shouldn't have and let her live, should she have walked away? She should have ended it there and then! Went back to kiss her and ended it all. The one thing she vowed never to do and she had broken it. All for the wanting of this girl with the blue eyes. _

'I don't know why you keep coming back. I'm not going to feel the same way as I did then.' Sissi looked at her admirer. 'I'm a grown woman now, I'm married.' Death stifled the retort she was about to make and stayed silent. Noting the flicker of irritation across her face, Sissi said nothing else. She just observed. A silver strand had caught itself on the silk collar. Sissi gently freed it. Death gave not a sign she could feel the gentle hands brushing past her throat. Time ticked by and they stayed by the window like statues.

Then Death stirred herself, languidly prepared to leave.

'I don't know when I'll be back.' Sissi's mouth twitched in a smile, Death always made these declarations and then turned up a few days later. She knew she was there, hiding in the shadows, not always approaching but often there. 'I'm still not going to change my mind' she asserted.

Death paused and turned back, a glint in her eye. Reaching a hand towards Elisabeth, she used just a finger to stroke her cheek. She couldn't deny the satisfaction she felt when seeing the shock in those innocent eyes and the scarlet flush that rose to that Madonna face.

Sissi needed to pull away but she couldn't. Death's eyes were electric, holding her where she was without command. A shiver ran through her that she couldn't suppress. The pale hand dropped away and Death decided to head out of the door.

'Wait!' She hadn't meant to say it out loud. Death swung round and gave her a searching look. 'I, I didn't mean that...for that to happen...' Sissi stuttered. 'I don't feel like that, I swear I don't.' Death simply turned her back and carried on walking. The door closed silently behind her. Elisabeth sat on her bed in despair. She hadn't meant to, had she?

'It is if you will it' came the answering whisper.


End file.
